One of Another

I don't remember how old I was, probably early adolescence, when I overheard a conversation between two adults, in which one stated they were a registered Democrat. I remember being utterly dumbstruck and completely horrified. I could not reconcile the good person I knew them to be with the evil that was the Democratic Party. It didn't even matter that they said they had registered that way years ago, mostly voted Republican now, and just hadn't gotten around to switching registration. I could not imagine why on God's earth this person would continue to be associated with such a depraved, godless group of people.

To be fair, I don't remember anyone specifically telling me "Democrats are evil and depraved," but that was what I had inferred from the conversations, messages, and media I was exposed to during my upbringing in a conservative, Evangelical, homeschooling environment. (Before anyone not raised in that environment gets too indignant, I encourage you to remember this demonization of those on "the other side" is certainly not exclusive to those groups.)

I like to think I've grown a lot since then. I've certainly explored a wider range of conversations, messages, and media. I do not think a person's voter registration is the determining factor in their morality or goodness or even their standing with God.

However. I'm increasingly aware of how often I still get that sinking feeling when I encounter views of family, friends, or acquaintances that are strikingly different from my own. Especially if those people profess to be Christians. Even though my beliefs are vastly different now than those I held as an adolescent, the sentiment behind my disappointment and dissent is the same: how can you call yourself a Christian when you believe that or support that candidate or hold that position?

I keep wondering how I can move past that. How can I think I've actually come very far if I'm presenting the exact same argument or having the same reaction, just from a different position.

I don't think I am alone here. From what I can tell, there is no shortage of people asking "how could you?" of those in their circles, be it only in their own thoughts or outright. If this is true, then I can hardly be alone in wondering about another way. I don't have any easy answers, but I can share what I'm learning from my wondering.

A few weeks ago, the book of Romans was the New Testament reading in the Daily Office. One passage in particular stood out to me and I keep coming back to it every time I wonder how to move past the 'how could you" to a different way:

For as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function, so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another. Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor...

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another; do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly; do not claim to be wiser than you are. Do not repay anyone evil for evil, but take thought for what is noble in the sight of all. If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God; for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” No, “if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. (Romans 12)

Two things stand out to me: The first is that this passage contains so many things to do and not do that just focusing on those could prevent me from having time to even think about who you or anyone else may be supporting for president. But what I really want to focus on is the phrase "we are all members one of another." That phase comes back to me every time I catch myself baffled by a friend's statement or Facebook post. I don't fully understand it, but "we are all members one of another" seems to be doing a slow work in me.

I'm starting see that in the mystical Body of Christ, there is something I'm not supposed to so readily dismiss in anything that brings out my 'how-could-yous.' And, more importantly, I'm coming to understand that the person holding those views is somehow part of me, as we are each part of Christ.

To be clear, I'm not suggesting we stay idle or silent in the face of actual wrong or evil. What I'm wrestling with and trying to express is a dissatisfaction with the way most of us have learned to engage with people on the other side. What I'm looking for is a different way.

I'm seeing that when we disagree, if I begin from "how could you?" then the last thing I'm going to remember is that we are "one of another." I will forget that we belong to each other (to summarize Mother Teresa). I will recoil or become defensive and cut myself off from you, which means I'm also cutting myself off from who I'm called to be.

It can be baffling how two people who profess a belief in the same God and read the same Holy Words can have such vastly different views. It is so easy to use these differences to harm to each other and our relationships by approaching those opposing views with accusations and incredulity. But what if we could transform these interactions? What if we could learn from and love each other, even if we never agree?

If we want to, we could start by remembering that we are members one of another, and go from there.

Love is Kind

If you’ve attended more than one wedding in your life, there is a chance you are at least vaguely familiar with chapter 13 from 1 Corinthians in the Christian Bible. It's the one with all those beautiful words about love. Even couples who aren’t especially religious often include these verses in their ceremony:

Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.

I don't know about you, but a lot of what I see called “love” seems nothing like this. There are probably countless reasons for that, but one I’ve been thinking about specific to the Church is our tendency to idealize a passage for a singular situation or relationship, and in the process, hinder our ability to be transformed by it. It is one thing to parade out beautiful, poetic words for a day of celebration with a joy-filled couple. It is quite another to take those words down from a pedestal and give ourselves over to their life-altering truth.

My new appreciation for 1 Corinthians 13 began when I came upon these words in Psalm 69 some time ago: “Answer me, O LORD, for your love is kind; in your great compassion, turn to me." The phrase for your love is kind captured my attention.

Throughout my life, I’ve heard God’s love described many ways, but “kind” is not one I remember. Kindness as a general concept isn't especially revolutionary, but this was completely new way for me to understand God’s love. I've spent a lot of time reflecting on the idea and asking myself what it means to profess faith in a God whose love is kind. What beliefs do I hold that are incongruent with this concept? What are the practical implications for my life?

In light of 1 Corinthians 13, I’ve come to understand that it’s not only God’s love that is kind. Real love is kind. My love needs to be kind.

This truth is not just for a wedding day and is not only for a person’s relationship with their spouse, as important as kindness is for those partnerships. There are also no qualifiers such as “Love for fill-in-the-blank is kind” or “Love is kind unless….” I’m made uncomfortably aware of all the times I’ve acted in an unkind way in the name of “tough love” or “speaking the truth in love” when what I was really doing was reacting out of anger, judgement, fear, or self-righteousness.

The first way I began to incorporate “love is kind” into my life is in my relationship with my children. It has changed the way I parent. When I struggle over how to respond to new challenges, I do my best to ask, “What is a kind response?” Lately I’ve even added in, “Am I being patient? Am I insisting on my own way?” My kids are different people from me. They have different perspectives, ways of understanding, and getting things done.  It is loving (and kind!) to be patient and not always insist they see or do things my way. Of course I still have moments when I give in to irritation, impatience, and rudeness. I’m human. But the words “love is kind” have forever altered the way I experience parenthood.

And what of Jesus telling us to love our enemies and to love our neighbors as ourselves? No matter how I try to spin it, I can’t free myself from the realization that this includes kindness.

When I’m facing conflict, when I feel deep dislike, or when I’m baffled at the actions of another, I often struggle with an urge to react. What I’m coming to see is that when I react with judgement, blame, disgust, shaming, or self-righteousness – anything other than love and kindness – I still have work to do.

Others have had different lives and experiences from mine. I can rarely know why people do or say things I find baffling or appalling. I admit I have a hard time not being rude or resentful if someone dismisses my idea in a meeting or insults me for a belief I hold, so I'm still wrestling with how to experience true loving kindness toward someone who does far worse. I am learning to see that even even when I feel incredulity or outrage or fear, I'm not exempt from the truth that love is kind. That has to be what I’m working toward, even when I fall short.

I cannot change other people. What I can do is allow the truth that love is kind to transform me and pray that I will continually learn to live it better. I can recognize unkind, unloving behavior for what it is. I can purpose to learn how to better respond in the face of all that I don’t understand. I can ask questions. I can offer kindness. I can be love.

Love is kind.

A Meditation on Psalm 63

"O God, you are my God; eagerly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my flesh faints for you." Psalm 63:1


Psalm 63:1 has become a bit of a mantra for me. I say it silently each morning as I quiet my thoughts before I begin my Centering Prayer, and I find that I return to it throughout the day. I don't always repeat the full verse; sometimes "O God, you are my God" is all I need to re-focus my thoughts.

Several months ago, I realized that as I focused on the words, I would hear "O God, you are my God" as "O God, you are *my* God." I know this may seem minor, but as I considered what it means that I was emphasizing the word "my," I determined there may be a better way than subconsciously putting the focus on my own thoughts or feelings of God.

I realized the better way to hear the phrase was: "O God, you are my God." As in, God IS my God, not God is MY God. God -- who is so intimately present to each of us every second, who created each of us in God's image, who is "being" itself and yet who exists so completely other and separate from anything we can think or project on that Being -- that God is my God.

I've also come to see that if God is my God, then nothing else can be. Of course I would have said this, but it struck me that if I truly, in the depths of my being believe "O God, you are my God," then I need to be consciously aware that:

My loved-ones are not my god.

My roles of daughter, sister, friend, wife, and mother are not my god.

My hopes and dreams and wants and wishes are not my god.

My religion is not my god.

My nation is not my god.

My political views are not my god.

My identity not my god.

My social status is not my god.

My physical appearance is not my god.

My reputation is not my god.

My thoughts are not my god.

My earthly possessions are not my god.

My ideas are not my god.

My opinions are not my god.

My self-worth is not my god.

My life is not my god.

Only God is my God.

I've even begun to insert these sentiments into my mantra when I feel myself identifying too deeply with a thought or emotion that distracts me from a better way to handle everyday situations. For example, I will try to pause and think, "God, YOU are my God. The results of this effort are not my God. You are my God." Or "God, YOU are my God. This person's approval or esteem is not my God. You are my God." Sometimes just the act of stating both who should be my focus, along with who-or-what should not be, is enough to help me navigate frustrating situations with grace.

It has only been a few months, and I'm not perfect at remembering every time, but I'm thankful this is becoming a practice for me. God is my God. Everything thing else is simply part of life, to either be enjoyed or endured.

It really is as simple and beautiful as that.

All I have to do is keep practicing.




Note: for more resources and information on Centering Prayer, I encourage you to check out the  Contemplative Outreach website and/or listen to some of Thomas Keating's work on Audible. Another resource I've discovered recently is Gravity Center, which lists several wonderful resources and offers some excellent videos on contemplation. 

An Advent Reflection: Hope

O come, O Come Thou Day-spring bright
Pour on our souls Thy healing light
Dispel the long night's lingering gloom
And pierce the shadows of the tomb
 - From 'O Come, O Come Emmanuel,' origin unknown

Every year I dread when the days turn cold. The weight of darkness seems to increase as the daylight hours decrease. The chill and the gloom close in all around, and even inhaling deeply or lifting my eyes to look for beauty seems difficult.

Everything feels too heavy. Everything feels too cold. Everything feels too dark.

Yet in this, my first year observing Advent, there is a barely perceptible shift. I can sense moments of peace when I call to mind that I am intentionally observing this low time—that I've embraced this waiting in the dark, this participation in an age-old and sacred longing.

I am merely one of multitudes who have defied the gloom and shadows with hopeful expectation.

Being present to this yearning does not make me continually cheerful or warm or bright, but it does increase my awareness of the presence of Hope. I know Hope is pressing in close, right along with the heaviness and the chill and the darkness.

This Hope calls to mind the love and compassion of God. This Hope whispers reassurance that the darkness will not consume.

Hope waits with us, unfailing, as we anticipate the moment when Divine Light pierces the darkness and heals our souls with Love.


Yet this I call to mind
    and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for him.”
The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,
    to the one who seeks him;
it is good to wait quietly
    for the salvation of the Lord.
Lamentations 3: 21-26

Making Peace with Bonhoeffer

“Finally, one extreme statement must still be made, without any platitudes, and in all soberness. Not considering oneself wise, but associating with the lowly, means considering oneself the worst of sinners. This arouses total opposition not only from those who live at the level of nature, but also from Christians who are self-aware.  It sounds like an exaggeration, an untruth. Yet even Paul said of himself that he was the foremost, i.e., the worst of sinners (1 Tim. 1:15). He said this at the very place in scripture where he was speaking of his ministry as an apostle. There can be no genuine knowledge of sin that does not lead me down to this depth.  If my sin appears to me to be in any way smaller or less reprehensible in comparison with the sins of others, then I am not yet recognizing my sin at all.  My sin is of necessity the worst, the most serious, the most objectionable. Christian love will find any number of excuses for the sins of others; only for my sin is there no excuse whatsoever. That is why my sin is the worst. Those who would serve others in the community must descend all the way down to this depth of humility.” - Dietrich Bonhoeffer in Life Together

Before I proceed, I want to say that I've shared only an excerpt from the book and if you haven’t read it, yes there are entire sections on confession and holding each other accountable.  I wanted to say that so no one makes the mistake of dismissing the sentiment above or what I'm about to write as some kind of “everything is permissible, even blatant sin” argument.  As much as I love and agree with the statement, “Christian love will find any number of excuses for the sins of others,” I do not, in fact, believe that means we should pretend that everyone can do whatever the hell they want with no consequences. 

That said, I finished Life Together and think I've made peace with Bonhoeffer.  I found so many insights in the second half of the book that it will take me years to process all of them.  I may have a college degree from a Christian university and be a life-long reader, but I am still pretty new to reading theology.  It can be inspiring, but sometimes frustrating and difficult to process.  I'm learning as I go.  I'm glad I committed to finish reading the book, because there is a lot I would have missed if I had stopped reading when I found the first part difficult to manage.    

I think there are some things we each believe on some level, but that we don't fully understand until we read or hear them explained in a way that "clicks" with our own mind and heart.  For example, when I was reading Exclusion and Embrace and I knew as I was reading I had always believed so much of what was in that book, but I hadn't put in the years of research and studies required to be able to explain what I believed with the wisdom and depth of insight in which Miroslav Volf is so fluent.

I had a similar experience when I read the above passage from Life Together, only this time with a twinge of realization of how far I am from that ideal.  Of course I, like many people, don’t think my own sins are really THAT reprehensible in comparison to the sins of others, otherwise I probably couldn’t live with myself. But I am deceiving myself to think that when I mess up it is somehow not as bad as when others do. Thinking my sin is more acceptable or is more easily forgiven is prideful and wrong. Sin is sin.

It is okay to be disappointed when I feel that others have completely missed the spirit of love by clinging so tightly to the letter of the law.  It is right to call out abusive words and actions.  But none of that can be done from an attitude that I am more right or have the upper moral or spiritual ground.  I can believe with all my heart that what someone has said or done is so wrong that I can’t even reconcile it with any thought of decency.  Yet, I still must not think that my sin or where I go wrong is somehow acceptable compared to what I perceive to be that person's sin or where they go wrong.

I have to be accountable for the things I do and where I fail.  I have to own the times I am wrong.  I have to be humble enough to say that even though I can see those things right in front of me that seem like GLARING NEON SIN BILLBOARDS on others, I have to know that my own sin billboards are twice as offensive.

For quite a while I felt that I should speak up and point out what I considered to be glaring errors in the way others behaved or how they thought of certain things. I felt that because I was learning to think differently about things and that I should help others get there too. But that isn’t my job. My job is to listen. My job is to focus on removing the proverbial plank from my own eye.

It is a struggle to "descend all the way down to this depth of humility," let alone to stay there.  It is always a temptation to justify my shortcomings by comparing them to what others do that I'd like to think is worse.  But after spending time with this passage over the past few days, I realize I have no grounds for comparison.  I have no grounds for feeling superior.  I have no grounds for excusing myself while condemning others.  Humility and love are the only acceptable lenses through which I can view the sins of others.  My sin is the worst and I must act accordingly.

"This is a trustworthy saying, and everyone should accept it: 

“Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners”—

and I am the worst of them all."

1 Timothy 1:15

Romans 12:15 in Three Translations

Laugh with your happy friends when they are happy, share tears when they’re down. (MSG)
Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. (NIV)
Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep. (NLT)


So much noise.  So much stress.  So many distractions.  So much going on all the time.  It is too easy for me to get caught up in my own life and what I have going on, but that isn’t the way life is supposed to be.  We need to share life with each other, to bear witness to what is happening in the lives of others. 

I’ve been trying to take time to do this sharing of life more often, although with craziness at work and someone in our house being sick almost every weekend so far this year, I can’t say I’ve been the best at it lately.  I did manage to get together with a childhood friend for dinner tonight.  I hadn’t seen her in a long time, and it was nice to sit and catch up. 

Even though I’m back home alone now, (the kids are staying the night with my parents) I’m taking some time to sit and share life with some people.  I can’t be with them in person at the moment, but I want to be present just the same.

Tonight I celebrate new life.  Two friends I’ve known as long as I can remember are both expecting.  One baby was a total surprise and the other longed and prayed for during years of infertility and illness.  These new babies will be delivered into welcoming arms and enormous extended families.  They will be cherished and so, so loved. 

My heart is full.

This world can be such a wonderful place.

Tonight, I'm pausing to laugh and to rejoice and to be happy with my friends who are happy.

But my eyes are also full of tears tonight.  All week that square on the calendar with the “8” in it has been catching my attention and causing a lump to rise in my throat.  February 8th.  Six months since beautiful Zeke’s accident.  Six months that his family has been missing him.  It is so unbelievably wrong and I think of them and pray for them continually, despite that I know nothing changes what their reality is now or what they feel.

My heart weeps.

And I’m pausing tonight to share tears and to mourn and to let my heart weep with those who weep.

Tonight I’m keeping extra space in my heart for others.

Tonight I pray.

Not Less or More

I have started many drafts about my church issues.  Almost all of these drafts detail stories about youth group or courtship or leadership or homeschooling or secular music or gender roles or authority.  Most of these drafts start off coherent, but then descend into jumbled thoughts in run-on sentences and emotional ramblings because all the things listed above were completely intertwined during the same period of my life.

Along with those unfinished stories are multiple attempts to write about how those intertwined things have affected me since that time.  I've done a lot of writing about things I've sorted through, from thoughts about why in college I let guys talk over me in class without calling them out on it, to listing out words I didn't mean yet said anyway because I believed they were words I was expected to say because I was a girl.  I've spent a lot of time trying to put into words all the questions and doubts that I learned from a patriarchal view of religion that became part of who I was back then.  I've spent a lot of time trying to explain how I eventually realized that I'd learned to question things I should not question and that I'd learned to avoid questioning things I should.

I’d learned to question my right to speak.

I’d learned to question my right to disagree.

I’d learned to question my heart.

I’d learned not to question contradictions.

I’d learned not to question when someone else “heard God” for me.

I'd learned not to question the notion that I was somehow less because I am a girl.

As much as all of those things still bother me at times, there is no reason for me to share those stories in any more detail than what I've shared in the past and what I've written above.  The details of the stories don't matter anymore.  I’m no longer involved in that community.  I’m not going to try to go back and talk to those people about what happened.  It’s all still there in my back story, but continuing to hash out the details is only going to distract me.   

What I need to focus on now is figuring out what to do about church.  What I'm currently doing with staying home on Sundays is fine for now, but I can’t stay away from community with God’s people because I had some bad experiences years ago.  I can’t keep avoiding it because my more recent (admittedly half-hearted) attempts to find a place to serve with other Christians have been dismal failures.  I can’t keep hiding because I’m afraid of being overwhelmed with my baggage and damaging my kids with it.

I realize communities are comprised of people and therefore no community is perfect.  I’m not looking for perfection.  I am not perfect and would not fit in any community where perfection is the goal.  I know I need to be willing to listen to people with whom I disagree.  I know there will be times my heart or thoughts will be wrong and I need to be willing to admit that and seek forgiveness if necessary.  I know I should always be striving to be a better version of myself and to learn and stretch and grow. And I know now that I need to find a place where all of those things are possible and encouraged.

Yet it must also be a place where my faith questions won’t be met with hostility and where my self-doubts won’t be fanned back to life.  I need to find a place where the way community is lived-out reinforces, to me and to my sons, that my heart is not less because it beats in a female chest.  That my words are not less because they are spoken with a female mouth.  That I am not less.  I refuse to raise the boys in a Church community where they are taught that having a Y chromosome makes them more or better or gives them the right to control anyone else.  We need to be in a place where it is understood that we can all serve and learn and grow together, with all our differences and despite disagreements.  I need to keep looking until I find that community – flawed and imperfect as it may be – where no one is taught they are less.

For you are all children of God through faith in Christ Jesus.

And all who have been united with Christ in baptism have put on Christ, like putting on new clothes. There is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male or female.

For you are all one in Christ Jesus.

-  Galatians 3:26-28

3 AM and Proverbs 4

I know I wrote recently about words and learning to use them well and speak from my heart.  That is important.  I want be able to honestly express what I think and feel.  I want to be understood.  I think many of us would agree that when we feel deep down that another person understands us, it is beautiful and we can feel the balance shift just a little in the right direction.

Here on this blog, it is okay if I focus on explaining the things in my head and heart.  That is a large part of why I started it.  I appreciate the effort of trying to work things out in written words and I love to connect with other people who do the same.  It is appropriate for the point of this space to be where I try to explain what I think and what I mean and what I believe. 

But at about three o’clock this morning, as I was thinking over several things I wanted to explain, I realized that I need to balance my pursuit of expressing myself with discernment for the times I need to check my desire to explain.  Outside of this blog, there will frequently be times when it’s not about people “getting” me, not about telling people what I think. 

I need to pay attention for the times in life that are more about gaining understanding, than giving it. 

And there is a lot I do not understand.

I realized that I have to work to be present in a place of trying to gain understanding.  Conversations are not simply about launching into what I think or how I disagree or what I'd like others to understand that I mean.  When I engage in a dialogue with someone, it needs to be from a place that shows that what I think or want to explain is not my main goal.  Many times, setting aside those things for the sake of listening and really hearing the other person should be my priority.  And that means listinging and thinking about what is being expressed without being preoccupied with what point I want to make next.  It means focusing on the other person.

Even if that means listening to the hard stuff. 

Even if that means listening to words that seem like criticism of me and what I think and how I feel. 

Yes.  I know there will be times it is right for me to state my case.  There will be times to stand up and disagree.  There will be times to walk away from a conversation.  There will be times to say that a response was unwarranted or inappropriate.  There will be a time when I won't gain understanding no matter how earnestly I try. 

But I have to begin by not jumping in with my responses before I've listened.  I have to begin by working, with humility and a sincere heart, to gain understanding. I realize that sometimes this will mean not being able to explain myself.  I realize that may mean foregoing the opportunity to state my case.

But that is okay. 

It's the listening and the understanding I need to be working on anyway.




Though it cost you all you have, get understanding. – Proverbs 4:7

One Word

Let me begin by saying that I am already second-guessing myself and this is only the first sentence.  The thought that someone I don't know may be reading these words soon after I post this makes me have all kinds of second and third (and, heck, tenth!) thoughts about doing this.  I have never before done any kind of link-up that might purposely bring people to read my blog.  Yes, I do understand that posting to an online blog instead of writing in a diary I keep under my mattress means there is a greater chance people will happen upon my writing and read it, but this is new and different for me.  Only a limited number of my friends and family even know that I write a blog.  So this is all a bit nerve wracking for me, but a new year calls for doing new things.

Now that I have that out of the way, I'll also say that I realize I am a bit late to the party.  I only found out about this two days ago when it showed up on my Facebook news feed from the "A Deeper Story" Facebook page.  At first I was going to follow along without participating, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to try it.

Quite a while back I wrote a post in which I explained that I felt as though I was unraveling in more than one sense of the word.  I wrote, "I might be unraveling in the sense that I feel like I'm coming apart, but I am not going to continue that way. I'm making an intentional effort to unravel the complexities of my life, faith, and decisions into something clear and understandable."  That was in 2009 and I feel as though along the way I've become stuck on the taking apart to the point that making the complexities clear and understandable went by the wayside a little.

When I saw this One Word idea, the word "Unravel" immediately came to mind.  It didn't take long, however, to rule it out.  This is a new year and I need a new word.  I need something to show that I am ready to turn a page and figure out what to do with all the threads of my life I've unraveled into these "strands of something" that somehow need to fit together into a clear and understandable whole.

And then my word came to me:

Weave
transitive verb

- To interweave or combine (elements) into a complex whole.
 - To introduce (another element) into a complex whole; to work in.
 - To produce by elaborately combining elements
 - To unite in a coherent whole

Of all these definitions, "to unite in a coherent whole" most powerfully represents this word to me.  I've spent all these years trying to unravel, to question, to deconstruct what I think and what I believe, and it is time to start figuring out how it fits back together.  Not that I will be complete or that the questions will disappear or that I won't still be on a journey, but I need to start trying to see the bigger picture again before I start losing some of the vital components.  I need to begin uniting these various strands into a coherent, albeit complex, whole.

Yes. Weave is my word and to weave is my goal.  I will weave with words and with thoughts and with experiences.  I will interweave and introduce and produce and unite.  And even though there may be the occasional need to rearrange or reevaluate, my hope is that by the end of this year I will have something more coherent than these armfuls of unraveled strands.



God made my life complete when I placed all the pieces before him. - Psalm 18:20 (MSG)

How Christians Should be More Like Atheists (or How an Atheist Helped Save My Faith)

Once upon a time, I was a good Christian girl.  Somewhere along the way, I began to realize that a lot of what I'd been told about God and Christianity and how I was supposed to "live out my faith" was complete bullshit.  It pisses me off to realize that a lot of what I’d been told was actually made up as a way to control others or make money.

I know I've written about my struggle with this process previously; yet what I haven't written about till now is the eclectic mix of people who threw me life preservers and kept me company while I was floundering, struggling to keep my head above water – trying to figure out not only how to swim, but if I really wanted to be in the water in the first place.  I was fortunate enough to find several beautiful souls in some seemingly unlikely places.  Someday, I may write about the others if I feel they might not mind it, but today I'm going to write about my friend Kara.

Late one night as I was randomly looking at blogs, I stumbled on one that was decently interesting and read a few posts.  When I looked at the blog roll and spotted "Answering the Apocalypse” listed there, I clicked over to it.  What I found was some of the most honest, witty, sarcastic, entertaining, and heart-wrenching writing I have ever read.  I have to share her "About Me" description here so you can see why her blog caught my eye:

I am a currently underemployed writer/graduate school dropout who has no idea how to pave a path for herself in life. In addition, I am an "out" atheist, I don't want children, and I am nowhere near as financially independent as I would like to be. And, no, I don't think that my lack of direction, my dislike of children, or the absence of money in my life will be improved by accepting Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, although I guess it would take care of the atheism.

I literally laughed out loud.  This chick is seriously funny and seriously self-effacing in the most endearing way.  She is sharper than most other people I've met, yet she realizes that her flaws make her just as human as anyone else.  I spent my free time over the next few days reading all of her old posts.  I tried several times to leave a comment, but something about my browser settings wouldn't let me.  I finally gave up trying and sent her an email.  We struck up an email friendship, which quickly became chatting and commiserating almost daily.

I genuinely appreciate Kara and her friendship is invaluable to me.   For over three years now, she has been one of those people in my life to whom I could honestly say ANYTHING and know she was not going to judge me or hold it against me or be offended.  She was there for me -- with just the right mix of support, questions, rants, dialogue, and silence -- while I struggled with the incongruity between what I'd been told I should believe and what I saw with my own eyes, felt in my own experience, and read for myself in the Bible.  She would encourage me to see things from other perspectives without ever once pressuring me to change my beliefs to match hers.

While I don't like to tell people what to do or how they should act, after thinking about this for quite a while, I am going to share a few of the things I've learned from my atheist friend that I honestly believe Christians should take to heart.

1. Accept that it is okay for people to be different from you.  Christians seem to talk a lot about loving everyone and "meeting people where they are."  Sadly, we are often so preoccupied with our small groups, purity programs, and hating the sin but loving the sinner, that we fail to realize that none of those things show we can handle it if another person’s life experience does not allow them to see things the way we do.  Kara and I have very different backgrounds, but she never made a big deal of our differences or acted like I needed to be more like her to be worthy of her friendship. That attitude is much more like the attitude of Christ than what I typically see from a lot of Christians.

2. Stop being scared of questions.  Jesus almost always answered questions with questions or with stories that led to more questions.  I know from experience how the certainty that we have the right answers makes us seem haughty and arrogant, because I have been treated that way many times.  Life is messy and full of questions.  We don’t have all the answers and pretending that we do is living a lie.  I don’t know how many times I've started a conversation with Kara with “I don’t understand…” but those conversation almost always lead me to a place of meaning.  I may still have the same questions, but discussing them with someone who never made me feel like I should have it all figured out opened my eyes to the vastness of God’s love and the realization that he doesn't expect me to know it all either.

3. Stop acting like you have it all together.  You don’t.  None of us do.  Be a real person.  People can spot an agenda from a mile away.  No one wants to be your project.  In I Samuel 16, we are told, “The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”  Look at the heart of others and wear your own heart on your sleeve a little.  One of the most refreshing things about talking to Kara is that I knew she would tell me what she was really thinking and respectfully admit if she disagreed with me.  We need to accept who we are, regardless of who others think we should be, but we also need to allow those we come in contact with to be who they are.

4. Never tell someone they shouldn't feel how they feel.  Open your eyes and look at the reality of the world around you.  There is real pain.  There is real suffering.  Abandon your slogans, church-sign zingers, and clichés.  Those things not only trivialize real heartache, but they also make you seem like an ass. You do not know exactly what it is like to live someone else's life.  From your perspective, the other person may not actually have it so bad, but how is that helpful to someone who is having a really difficult time?  Proverbs 14 tells us "Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can share its joy."  I cannot tell you how much it helped knowing that if I told Kara how much trouble I was having with something, she would agree that it sucked instead of telling me what a terrible person I was for thinking I had it bad when there were women being persecuted in Iran.

5. Show up.  Be there.  Don’t shy away from the things that challenge you and your world view.  My friend Kara has been hurt by Christians in the past.  "Christians" used their "biblical world view" to verbally attack her, to judge her, and belittle her.  Yet she never asked me to stop talking to her about my own beliefs and where I was in my journey.  I’m sure there were times it would have been easier for her to tell me she couldn't handle my baggage, that she’d had more than her fair share of Christian rhetoric, and to please talk about something else.  But she didn't   She kept telling me that I’m smart, that I will figure it out, that I will be okay.  It’s easier to back away when we don’t want to get our hands dirty with someone else’s issues, but that isn't what we are supposed to do.  Roll up your sleeves.  Offer a your hands to help, your ears to listen, and your shoulder to cry on.

These are just a few of the things, but I am sure I could go on and on.  My main point here is that when I was standing on the edge of losing not only my faith in God, but also my faith in myself, there was someone there for me who doesn't even believe God is real.  She loved me for who I was, for where I was, and helped me pick up the pieces.  She stood by patiently while I put them back together in a way that allowed me the beginning of an understanding I'd never imagined possible.  Regardless of your beliefs (or non-belief), I think there is something there we can all learn from.  With her unconditional acceptance and constant encouragement, an Atheist helped me salvage my faith.  Imagine how different things would be if more Christians treated other people with the same warmth, respect, consideration, and love.

Baffled

For anyone who either grew up in the church or is familiar with the more often-told Bible stories, you probably know the story of the woman caught in adultery.  If you are not familiar, here is an excerpt from John 8:  

The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.
But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her....” At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there.
Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”
“No one, sir,” she said.
“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.”

I've seen this story come up multiple times in discussions over certain social issues around which there is much debate and disagreement.  When I read this story, two things stand out to me.  The first is, where the hell is the man?  Unless I'm misunderstanding something, it takes two people to commit an act of adultery.  Was he in the crowd with a rock in his hand?  What injustice that only this woman is facing death for a crime committed by two equal participants!

The second thing I see is how Jesus stands up for her, this scorned woman who is facing the judgment of the religious leaders of the day.  He not only saves her from a brutal death, but treats her with dignity.  What a scene that must have been and what confusion she must have experienced at this shocking change in her fate.  When I read this, I see a story of mercy, grace, and love, but also of justice -- the woman is treated equally with the man and does not receive solo punishment for the sin of two. Those are the things that stand out to me in this story

I've noticed, however, that what some people focus on in this story is that last line, “Go now and leave your life of sin.”  In the KJV translation, it reads, "Go, and sin no more."  To some, it seems, the main point of this story is that Jesus tells her to stop sinning.  Sure, the rest of the story is nice, but look!  Jesus made it clear that she had to lead a blameless life for the rest of her days!

It has always troubled me, this split in how the story is explained and how some seem to use it like a weapon against those they believe are sinning in a way that is less acceptable than their own sin.  I would always be baffled that the proverbial "moral of the story" could be so completely different to people who all seem to agree on the basic tenets of the Christian faith. 

I just finished reading a book by Richard Beck titled Unclean: Meditations on Purity, Hospitality, and Mortality that shed light for me on why there is such a difference in approach when this type of story is discussed.  I wish I had read this years ago.  I have re-read this section of the book (below) numerous times, and now that I've had time to consider it, it makes perfect sense.  For anyone who has spent a lot of time studying psychology, this may be old news.  For me, well, mind = blown.

Given that the experience of the divine is often regulated by disgust psychology, conversations about God, sin and holiness are often being torpedoed at some deep level. A dumbfounding is occurring. These dynamics make conversations about God inherently difficult because our experience of the divine is being regulated by emotion rather than logic, affect rather than theology. I think people in churches have always known this, and felt that people in conflict within the church were generally talking past each other....

Conservatives make appeals to the Purity/Sanctity foundation while liberals restrict their moral judgments to the foundations of Harm/Care and Fairness/Reciprocity. This is simply another way of saying that liberals, weakly or strongly, reject appeals to a vertical, transcendent dimension... in favor of the horizontal dimension of human affairs.

Conservatives will contend that there are times when the sacred...should be privileged over the... call for justice or equity.... For liberals, the metaphysical (“the sacred”) isn’t a category worthy of consideration if real world harm and injustice are at stake.... (emphasis mine)

 I highly recommend reading Dr. Beck's book, as this excerpt really doesn't do justice to his thorough examination of the analysis he offers, but I hope you can see what he is getting at here and what his words illuminated for me.  When I read it, I immediately thought of the different responses to the adulterous woman story. Due to our life experiences and the way our minds work, some of us are thinking more of what is fair, caring, and just when we consider what is "right" and what is "wrong" or what we focus on in certain issues.  Due to the same factors, others are thinking more of what is righteous, pure, or acceptable when considering what is "right" or what is "wrong."

I know this insight doesn't actually change anything.  It doesn't make me more likely to think about the story of the adulterous woman in a different way or change my mind about other frequently debated issues.  I will still disagree with people over where I stand.  However, it does help me see that there will be times when I need to step back and appreciate that I'm arguing in a completely different right vs. wrong "language" than another person.  It doesn't make either of us bad people, it just means that our brains work so differently that we may never be able to agree on that subject.

This knowledge reminds me that there will be times when I need to determine if my relationship with a person is more important than trying to get them to see where I am coming from.  I may never truly grasp the point of view of someone whose mind works differently, but there may be ways to compensate for this difference.  We may never gain full comprehension, but maybe we can get to understanding in the sense of "a state of cooperative or mutually tolerant relations between people."  If we can find a way to relate to those on the other side of this divide, cooperation may be possible.  I have to believe that even if we never get there, it is a goal worth pursuing.

Repent or Perish.... But the Greatest of These is Love

Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices.  Jesus answered, “Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way?  I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish.  Or those eighteen who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them—do you think they were more guilty than all the others living in Jerusalem?  I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish." - Luke 13:1-5

I hadn’t really noticed this passage before, but I happened to re-read it a few weeks ago and it caught my attention.  In my Bible, it has a heading prefacing it that reads "Repent or Perish," so I guess I previously skipped over it as some kind of revival fodder.  I’m not pretending to be a Biblical scholar here, nor am I trying to come off as some sort of theological expert, but I’ve been mulling this passage over and over for weeks now and it is the rest of what Jesus said in it that stands out to me.  What if, Jesus wasn’t meaning this as some sort of off-the-cuff altar call, but as a call for us to examine our hearts and repent of when we blame other people for their circumstances?

What if Jesus was saying that the world just sucks sometimes and that the bad things that happen to people aren’t to punish them or teach them a lesson?  It seems to me that he was telling us to stop using our our words, our actions, or our thoughts to judge people who suffer.  There are so many things outside of each individual’s control – from where they are born to if they are stricken with a terminal illness to if some unforeseen tragedy befalls them - and these things are not the result of their sin.  The sin actually happens in the thoughts and actions of those of us who act like we have it all figured out whenever we know or hear of someone who is hurting.  When we judge those people or try to “fix” them by telling them what to do or how to feel or where they went wrong, we are the ones who need to repent.   Not looking after the sick, not visiting those in prison, not helping those in need of food or clothes or drink, feeling superior to someone who is different (aka a stranger) – aren’t those things that Jesus told us in Matthew 25 would separate us from God?  Didn't Jesus tell us in Luke 10 to love others as we love ourselves?

I think we need to take a step back here.  We are so conditioned with canned responses and clichés that we respond to heartache without thinking of how we would feel in the same circumstance. I’m speaking to myself as much as to anyone else.  I know there have been times when I feel that someone is in a bad spot because of what I consider to be bad choices and I've reacted terribly.  I’ve actually thought, “Well, that is sad, but if they wouldn’t have chosen to [fill in the blank with a "bad" choice], then maybe it wouldn’t have turned out this way.”  I realize this may be a defense mechanism that helps me pretend that I would be immune to that circumstance because I wouldn’t make that choice, but what I'm really saying there is that I am better than that person and wouldn't "deserve" for that to happen to me.  How terrible.

The other myth this passage in Luke blows out of the water is the whole everything-happens-for-a-reason bit.  When something bad happens to someone that isn’t directly a result of their own choices, so many attribute it to some higher purpose or lesson to be learned.  Why do we do this?  My guess is that trying to assign a lesson to something that could easily happen to any of us lulls us into thinking we should or could be exempt from the same thing.  In the words of Jesus, "I tell you, no!"  I am no better than anyone else.  Life is horrifying sometimes and none of us have some special exemption, as much as we wish we did.

Going back to Luke 13, I really do think that Jesus was trying to tell us that it is wrong to react to heartache in any way other than to offer compassion, and to repent if we don't realize that any of us could easily be in the same situation. The humility we gain from that will allow us to reach out with kindness and understanding and love.... that last thing, most importantly.  As I mentioned before, Jesus is also known for telling us that loving others as we love ourselves is one of the most vital things in life.  Regardless of how we may want to rationalize the circumstances,  we must not give in to that.... lest our hearts harden, our souls perish, and we forget that love is one the most important things of all.  




Postscript:  I really did just happen upon the scripture in Luke, but I felt even more compelled to write about it because of two things -- 

The first was how there are always those persons who speak out whenever a natural disaster occurs, to blame the victims for somehow incurring the wrath of God with their horrible lives.  This has always bothered me, as the victims who typically get the brunt of such disasters are those who are economically disadvantaged, not those who are "morally deficient."

The second was watching from a distance as a family I care deeply about has had to endure the most idiotic "justifications" for why their beautiful and vibrant Zeke was so horrifically and tragically wrenched from their earthly lives and arms.

Please.  PLEASE.  I beg of you.  If you hear of someone enduring heartache, be it in your community or on the other side of the world, think these two things before responding:
1.  That could happen to me.  Perhaps not the exact same thing, down to the exact same detail (for example, in Ohio, there are no hurricanes... or perhaps some people are childless/have no young children), but something frighteningly similar could happen to me or to someone I love very much.  
2. How would I feel if that same thing happened to me and how would I want people to respond to me if it did?
Once you have truly considered these two things and really taken them to heart, then you should be better prepared to respond.  If you find either of these things too difficult for you to wrap your mind around, it is probably better to be silent and send up some prayers or positive thoughts for those affected and leave the comments or displays of sympathy to others.

Floundering

floun·der [ flówndər ] (past and past participle floun·dered, present participle floun·der·ing, 3rd person present singular floun·ders)

intransitive verb

Definition:
1. make uncontrolled movements: to make clumsy uncontrolled movements while trying to regain balance or move forwards

2. hesitate in confusion: to act in a way that shows confusion or a lack of purpose

3. be in serious difficulty: to have serious problems and be close to failing


I've been thinking a lot about my issues. The ones I've posted and the ones I haven't. This morning as I was rolling all this around in my skull, all I could think is "Why are you floundering like this?" I mean, seriously. I have a lot of excuses, but no good ones. I've got to pull it together.

Only I can't. This is what happens when I try to figure everything out on my own. When I try to do things my way. When I try to make things work the way I want them to. When I try to make people respond the way I want. When I want what I want and I want, want, want.

Then I get distracted and I think it's all about me. Only it isn't. There are so many other things I should be doing. There are so many other things that should have my focus. I'm not sure how to get from here to there. There where I am focusing on the right things. There where I'm not floundering. But I think I'm starting to see to where I should refocus.

He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters.
-Psalm 18:16

Live Creatively, Friends

Live creatively, friends... Make a careful exploration of who you are and the work you have been given, and then sink yourself into that. Don't be impressed with yourself. Don't compare yourself with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life. - From Galatians 6 in The Message


I love, love, love this passage. I really think that so much of my own discontent is rooted in my comparing myself to others. I'm not as liberal as her. I'm not as conservative as him. I'm not as professional as him. I'm not as free-spirited as her. I'm not as quiet, loud, fun, serious, reserved, confident, caring, calloused, fashionable, or care-free. I'm not, I'm not, I'm not. I'm pretty sure that type of thinking is misguided, at best.

So what if I can't do a lot of things. So what if I'm different from a lot of people. If I was just like other people, what would be the point of my life? I just find this thought so freeing -- Sink myself into my own work and do the creative best I can with the life I have. I don't have to wish I was different. I don't have to try to be like other people. I just have to figure out what I should be doing and focus on that. I just have to be me.

Easier said than done, but saying it is a start.

Discontent

It seems like forever ago I wrote my post on unraveling and I really felt like that was the beginning of a journey. That I was going to unravel my life until I made sense of a lot of things. Now I just feel like I'm left holding a huge ball of knotted yarn. I'm not sure if this is just part of the process or if I got off track. I'm not sure if it is my own frustrations, insecurities, and doubts that made this happen or if it is a result of being distracted by circumstances, but I don't feel like it's working out the way I'd envisioned.

Earlier this week, I was reading in II Corinthians 5 in The Message and I came across this:

"Compared to what's coming, living conditions around here seem like a stopover in an unfurnished shack, and we're tired of it! We've been given a glimpse of the real thing, our true home... The Spirit of God whets our appetite by giving us a taste of what's ahead. He puts a little of heaven in our hearts so that we'll never settle for less."

I started this post last week and decided to leave the first part as it was and just continue on from here. The more I've been thinking about that verse, the more I've come to realize that maybe a knotted ball of yarn is okay. Maybe the problem was that I was striving for contentment, striving to feel good about myself. Maybe I was striving to feel like I was doing enough and meeting expectations. I see now how misguided that is.

I'm not meant to be content. This path isn't about contentment or satisfaction. It's about embracing the discontent. It's about pressing on. It's about continuing to pull the string and welcoming the questions so I can explore them. It's about clutching tight to a "live the questions" mentality. And more than anything, it's about realizing that believing in God's promises as I do means I will never be content with the way I am now. I will never be content with settling for less. And that's the way it's meant to be.

I Finally Remembered

For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

- Ephesians 3:14-21

I plan to get back to writing soon. For now, I will post this verse. I remembered it the morning after I wrote the previous post. My mom made my sisters and I memorize it when I was 12 or 13. It is Paul, praying for the Ephesian church. Praying that they would remember their roots. That they would remember God's love. I'm guessing this prayer was fulfilled, since his letter to this church managed to make it into the Bible. It gives me hope. It's easy to forget the importance of hope. It gives me hope that my prayers are not in vain.

Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.

- From 1 Corinthians 13:13 in The Message

Almost There

Two days left. This has been a really long month for me mentally. The self-imposed pressure of writing every day, combined with an unpaid week off work, the weird weather that made it seem more like fall than summertime (bleh!), and all these questions I'm trying to work through, has left me mentally and emotionally exhausted. I don't necessarily think this is negative, it's just the way I feel. I have more I want to write about my topic from Tuesday, but every time I sit down to write about it, whatever I put on the screen is all jumbled and confusing.

I want to write about religious tradition vs. biblical beliefs, but I still have so much research to do that I don't feel I can even begin to cover the topic. I do know that I am trying to sort out for myself what things I do or believe that are just traditions and then determine if those things are useful or helpful to me.

I want to write more about trust. I am still having trouble with this. I've thought a lot about
Isaiah 55:8 & 9, which reads, "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." On one hand, it is reassuring to me, because it's a reminder that I am obviously not the first person to have questions about God and why he does what he does. That God sees the big picture and I can only see what's right in front of me. But it is also disconcerting because that doesn't answer questions to just say, "Well, he's God and we just can't know." I really don't think that's what God was trying to say, but sometimes it feels like it.

I want to write more about how I've often thought of my beliefs. I realized that because of so many negative things I dislike about 'Christianity' and many who profess it, I am moderately ashamed to say I am a Christian. I am not ashamed that I have a relationship with God, it's more some kind of misplaced guilt for being affiliated with a religion that people can so easily distort and have distorted for so many years. This guilt has impacted my life and decisions and opinions regarding church and people who attend church. I realize it is not my fault if other people get it so wrong, but I am having a really difficult time coming up with an acceptable answer, for myself and for others, as to why this happens and what I can do about it.

I want to write more about questions. I keep going back to one of my favorite Rob Bell excerpts:

Central to the Christian experience is the art of questioning God. Not belligerent, arrogant questions.... but naked, honest, vulnerable, raw questions, arising out of the awe that comes from engaging the living God. This type of questioning frees us. Frees us from having to have it all figured out. Frees us from always having to be right. It allows us to have moments when we come to the end of our ability to comprehend.

To me this is not about giving up and accepting that something doesn't makes sense to me. I truly believe it would be wrong to just resign myself to not understanding. For me, this is about accepting that I may not understand something right now, but that might be that because of where I am right now, I'm not able to comprehend. BUT, if I keep searching and asking and studying and questioning, I will at some point gain at least some level of understanding in answer to my questions. Something to look forward to.

And I want to write about how all of this has me thinking about the difference between knowledge and experience. Sometimes when I think about people who have different beliefs than I have, I catch myself thinking they are somehow so much more intellectual or enlightened. My beliefs can seem old and quaint and outdated. But that is all about knowledge. That is just picking up some books and reading them and saying that one sounds logical and reasonable while the other seems confusing and crazy. If you just think about it on the surface, if there were a perfect person who never made any mistakes or did anything wrong, why would he chose to die for something he didn't do, just to reconcile the rest of humanity to God? BUT, if you've experienced the relationship and the love, the same story is amazing and beautiful.

So... yeah. I still have more I need to explore in these areas and still more topics I simply couldn't form into decent paragraphs today. The knowledge vs. experience thing is really big for me right now. I am struggling with how to talk about it with people who have only the knowledge and not the experience. Not in a 'come over to my side' way. But for me it is like talking to someone about a friend that person has never met. And in some cases it is like me talking to someone about a friend they have never met, who to them seems like my invisible friend. I just want to be ready with an answer... not a canned, 'Christian' answer, but a real and personal answer, should anyone ask questions.

"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful." - Hebrews 10:23

Loves Like a Hurricane

How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!

- I John 1:1

I think I've been trying to not write this post for some time. There are so many things I'm trying to sort out with my own faith and I certainly don't want to come across as though I think I have it figured out. I'm trying to really study and sort out what are things that I do or believe that are actually just a tradition that someone made up and what is the truth that I really believe and want to keep.

The reason I've been avoiding this post is because I really, really dislike when people come across as preachy or trying to 'save' someone and I certainly want to avoid that myself. But I think that by not posting this post, I'm not being entirely honest. I strive to be the kind of person who accepts people how they are and where they are. I don't expect people to change for me or to match up with my beliefs. But I need to allow myself that same freedom. I need to accept that my opinions and beliefs are not any less relevant than any other person's and I shouldn't be hesitant to write about them. By avoiding the subject that is taking up most of my thoughts, I am producing some true crap writing.

I rarely know what to say to people. I know I've mentioned this before, but I'm pretty awkward. Even in normal, social interactions I usually just listen and say as little as possible so I don't say something stupid. It's like when I open my mouth and say something it is just something odd or crazy and people don't 'get it.' When I'm in a situation that would normally be uncomfortable, like offering comfort or advice, I'm even worse. I simply don't know what to say.

So I've been thinking a lot about what to say to people who have been victims of the terrible result of people ascribing to 'religion' and religious tradition. I've heard and read horror stories that have just infuriated me that anyone would treat someone else so inhumanely under the guise that they are doing God's work. I've had to ask myself if I would still believe in God if that had been my experience all my life.

As I was thinking about this the other day and thinking about all my trust issues, I realized that I don't really trust that God can repair that type of damage. I believe that those people out there with the judgement and the abuse and the lies who are pretending they are obeying God have done far too much damage to a lot of people that it is a hopeless situation. Sad to admit, but I'm just being honest.

I know sometimes 'Christians' meet people who have different beliefs from them and tell these people they should just read the Bible or go to church and they would obviously see how wrong they are. I have to say just reading a book or just going to a building is probably not going to change anyone. And this is something I can't stop thinking about. I have people for whom I pray daily, but I don't say much to them about faith one way or another. I don't think there is much I can say to them that will persuade them either way. But if I don't believe anything I can say will make any difference to them and I doubt that God will get through to them, where does that leave my faith?

I was listening to this song (lyrics below) and I had the thought that it isn't about if they just read the Bible or just went to church or just... anything religious. It really is about if they just realized how much God loves them and how broken his heart is over all the terrible things they have experienced or the things that have gone wrong in their lives. And that he is so proud of them for overcoming adversity and for the things they do that contribute to the world in a positive way. And I was wondering why they would believe that and I really don't know. Maybe they never will. Many people who don't believe in God or who believe in something/one other than God are quite well versed, not only in what they believe, but also in what others believe. It wasn't a choice they made on a whim. They know what they believe and why.

I certainly don't pretend to fully understand the mind of God, but I do know that he loves me. There are many things I am still working to understand about God and who he is and why he doesn't prevent certain things or why some things don't work out. But I know that as a parent there is nothing that would ever make me love my kids any less. Even if they ran away from home and told people they didn't have a mother, I would still love them and still want what is best for them and still rejoice in their successes and morn with them in their sorrows. And I know that is how God is with his children.

I have really hesitated to post this, at risk of seeming like the things or people I dislike/disagree with. But I needed to write this out, to wrestle with it, to try to put it into words that I can go back and mull over and revise if necessary. It's just what is on my mind. I'm not sure of where to go with it from here. I guess I need more time to figure out how this all plays into my faith. I can't make people believe that God loves them, but I can pray for them. And I love them. I wonder if that is enough.

How He Loves - John Mark McMillan

He is jealous for me,
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realize just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me.

And oh, how He loves us so,
Oh how He loves us,
How He loves us all

We are His portion and He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes,
If grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking.
So Heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss,
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest,
I don’t have time to maintain these regrets,
When I think about, the way…

He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves us,
Oh how He loves.
Yeah, He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves us,
Whoa! how He loves us.

Trust Part 2

(Disclaimer: I am by no means a biblical scholar, nor am I trying to set myself up as an expert on this matter. I am not claiming that I am right or that these are words anyone should take as inspired or claim as part of their own faith. I am merely capturing my own wrestling with this subject. Philippians 2:12 states, "continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling." This is part of my attempt to do that.)


My Bible is stuffed full of notes. When I read something and want to remember a thought about it, I usually just write it right there in the margin, with a little arrow pointing to the verse to which the note refers. When I'm listening to someone speak, usually in church, and something stands out to me, I make notes on the back of the bulletin or some other piece of paper and stick it in the page. I got my current Bible in 1996. It contains a lot of notes.

Sunday night I was looking for my notes from that morning, but instead found my notes from a sermon from 1999. I'm not even sure from which church it was because it was only a bulletin insert and not the whole thing, but maybe Ovid or Eastside or Northside Church of God. (I went to a Church of God school. There are a lot of Churches of God in the surrounding areas and I attended several during my years there). The notes were on a pre-printed form with fill-in-the-blank bullet points. The sermon was from Joshua 3 and the topic was Faith. One of the bullet points read "Trust is the precursor to Faith." and the thought occurred to me that I really don't trust in God. I believe in him and I have faith, but I don't think I really trust God.

So then I started thinking about if I could have faith without trust. I think it is possible, but not sustainable. From my experience, you can have faith in someone's ability to do something, but not trust that they will do it. I believe that God has the ability to do miraculous things, to heal the sick, and to provide, but I don't really trust that he is going to do that for me. I prefer to try to be cautious, to take good care of myself, and to maintain a good job, so that I won't be in a position of needing to rely on anyone. Not that this will prevent something bad from happening, but I feel it gives me a slightly better chance of preventing it. There is anything wrong with being careful, with taking good care of myself, or with having a good job. I think these things are wise and responsible, especially since I have a family. But I think in allowing myself to be so self-reliant, I've treated God like a casual acquaintance.

It is foolish to trust everyone, especially those you don't know. I'm the lady who wears her purse in the supermarket or at least waits till I have stuff in my cart so that I can put my purse way in the back of the cart, under the seat part, with stuff on top of it so that someone would really have to dig and make a scene to steal it. When I'm driving, I never assume that other drivers are going to do things they should do, like using their turn signal to change lanes or even check to see if you are driving next to them before changing lanes. I HATE driving in the center lane. I just don't trust other people. Many are dishonest or careless or worse.

But in relationships, you need to learn to trust. I need to trust that Ryan is going to be faithful and a good husband. I need to trust that he will take care of our kids while I'm at work. If I did not trust him, it would destroy our relationship. I have faith in his ability to do these things and I trust that he will. And Ryan is only human.

In my relationship with God, I think I've always had faith in his ability to do the things he says he will do. I have seen God do some pretty amazing things, but I have also seen times where people trusted him to do something that he didn't do. I think I have told myself "Just because God can do something, doesn't mean he will and I just have to accept that." And then that thinking became, "I don't have to trust that God will do those things because if I do and he doesn't then I won't know what to do. Better to just try to rely on myself for the things I can and then if God wants to step in and do something great, that will be an added bonus." It's weird to admit I've been thinking that unaware, but it's not helpful to pretend it isn't true.

I'm not entirely sure of where this leaves me. I've been researching and praying and thinking about this all week. What I have so far is that trust is a choice. I have to make a decision that I will trust God, and that he will do the things he said. Most of the trust verses I've found in the Bible say things like "Trust God and this is what he will do." or "Because I trusted God, this is what he did." (FYI, none of these things say if you trust God he will make you rich or never sick or not have a bad day or make your life perfect). Here is one of the verses:
"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." - Romans 15:13
That is what I want. I want to be able to trust God and to be hopeful, despite that I know things aren't always going to work out the way I would like. To have joy and peace, and to not fear. I need to choose to trust and not rely so much on myself. I'm not there yet, but it's good to know the goal. This is getting to be a very lengthy post, so I'll stop now. I know I have more on this and I've already started the next 'trust post,' so..... more on trust to come.


The LORD is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in him. - Nahum 1:7

Trust Issues

The word 'trust' is referenced in one form or another 164 times in the NIV translation of the Bible. Last night, I realized that while I believe in God, I don't trust him. This is a topic I intend to explore in greater detail, but I've been too busy and hectic to have time to write it all out today. I figured if I just put it out there, then it would motivate me to get my head around it and write a real post on the subject. So there you have it. Much more on this to come.

"...Walk while you have the light, before darkness overtakes you. The man who walks in the dark does not know where he is going. Put your trust in the light while you have it, so that you may become sons of light..." John 12:35-36